Cochin, Kerala
27 April, 2010
Dear
Chacko,
This refers to your observations about the recent reports
on the alleged affair and marriage of a Pakistani cricketer to a Hyderabad girl
over the phone/internet and subsequent allegations of impersonation and
denials. This calls to my mind a rather incongruous “affair” my friend Ravi had
with one of his telephone friends at the beginning of his career. He would
claim later that there was no romance in it. Yet, one may not fail to notice
some trappings of an affair in it. And it ended in a totally unexpected
and disillusioning anticlimax.
Ravi says he crossed her path for the first time and the
last time in 1971. He had just joined the services of a financial institution
as a ‘direct recruit’ that summer. Initially he was given the responsibility of
documentation for newly sanctioned loans. You may be aware, Chacko, that large
projects are almost always financed by consortia of financial institutions and
banks. Hence it is necessary for each lender to ensure that the clauses in its
loan documents do not contradict with those of the others in the consortium.
They would iron out the differences through personal discussions.
My friend tells me that in a couple of days after he joined
the institution he received a phone call from a young lady officer of another
institution who introduced herself as Persis Gandhi. She sought certain
information about the terms of one of the loans in his portfolio, and he gave
her the information with the help of his assistant. What struck the young man
then was her extra-ordinarily feminine voice. Her diction and accent had the
flavor of what was described in those days as “convent education”. And her
agreeable telephone etiquettes had the stamp of business-like maturity. He was
impressed.
Persis must have been impressed with him too, for she
called him again the next day. The same honey-dripping voice, the same mature
diction, the same etiquettes and the same business-like, efficient talk. She
asked him correct questions, and she responded to him with exact answers. No
superficial mannerisms, laughing or giggling. And no curiosity-driven questions
or references of a personal nature. Clearly, Ravi thought he had many things to
learn from her.
Now, Chacko, when he said that such exchanges became an
everyday routine, I was inclined to reckon that ‘something’ was in the offing.
And you too might be getting ‘ideas’ now. But hold on till you come to the end
of his story.
The daily calls were mutual, and Ravi said their
conversations certainly benefited both of them. Her searching queries inspired
the young man to study his cases carefully and in advance so as to be in
readiness for answering her unpredictable catechism. And she acknowledged on more
than one occasion that some of his thoughts had benefited her as well.
My friend says, for long their conversations were strictly
official and brief. However, as happens most often in such circumstances, such
daily conversations, howsoever formal and official in content, invariably lead
in due course to the informal and the personal. A kind of quasi-official
friendship develops. So there were times, not infrequent, when they digressed
to the personal. And he soon found she was unmarried. She said she didn’t like
the men who proposed. And those who proposed included some of her “big bosses”
too. Ravi says he took care to impress her that he was a family man. But this
information about him did not seem to make any difference to her. Her tone when
they discussed such personal matters, he says, was one of disinterestedness and
she spoke with the coolness of information-passing. And this caused his
admiration for her to go even higher.
There were barren days, infrequent though, when she didn’t
contact him and he didn’t contact her. Her absence was invariably noticed by
him, but he says he never missed her. And, on the next possible occasion she
would explain to him the reasons for her silence.
Days passed and it was soon December. The country was at
war with Pakistan. The duo would critically discuss Indira Gandhi’s war plans,
Nixon’s infamous ‘tilt’ towards Pakistan, the Soviet Union’s possible
intervention, etc. To Ravi’s delight he found her to be well versed in current
affairs. Her passion about the war was based not on the kind of mindless
patriotism of the common folk but more on her awareness of India’s history and
her perception of the country’s destiny. And her exultation when India won the
war on the 16th of
that month seemed to surpass even that of the Prime Minister herself, and my
friend suspected for a moment that Persis might somehow be related
to Indira Gandhi. In any case they had a common
surname. And, for the rest of the month she had only words of praise for Indira
Gandhi.
Now, Chacko, by then they had been telephone friends for
some seven to eight months. I asked him if they had not met face to face
even once. Well, he said an opportunity soon arose. And it was the young lady
who took the initiative. It was decided that Persis
would meet him at his office at 12 noon the next day. How could he know then
that it would be the end of their 'affair'!
Ravi was looking forward to her arrival. But she was not to
be seen at the appointed time. However, some 15 minutes later there came in to the hall a slim elderly lady who was an
exact replica of Indira Gandhi with the same hair style and the same little
gray patch on her hair, the same proud, self-possessed gait, and dressed in
soft elegance. Ravi was puzzled. She was seen consulting the security guard who
pointed his finger in the direction of Ravi. Straightaway she approached him and introduced
herself in her familiar, honeyed voice, “I am Gandhi - not Indira but Persis”.
Her words fell on him like a bombshell.
I could not help laughing when he came to this stage in his
narration. Instantly he asked me to spare my laughter. A thunderbolt was in the
offing, he said. She told him the purpose of her visit. And that was to bid adieu. She would
retire from service the next day! Yes; that was a thunderbolt.
So, the “young lady” was 58, twice his age! Noticing his
acute discomfiture, she coolly exclaimed with a hearty laugh, “Oh! Now the mystery is
lost! What a shame!”
“Yes, it was a real shame”, Ravi would recall later. He
said with some resentment in his voice that, by denying him all those days even
a hint about her age, she was perhaps unconsciously exercising an element of
passive deception on him. Some kind of timely clue could have helped him
position himself rightly early on in their relationship.
“Of course, ours was a quasi-official friendship with no
sentiments attached, and hence no regrets and no damage done. And, truth to
tell, I had no guilt feeling.”
*
*
*
Now, Chacko, I can only guess why the lady came to see him
for the first and last time in the guise of Indira Gandhi. In the first place
she was proud of her close semblance with the Prime Minister. And then her
surname. To emphasise that semblance she might have given herself a few
touches. That was perhaps her way of demonstrating her admiration for her icon who
was being hailed by the world in the aftermath of her victory in the war as the
new queen-empress of India. And she might have been moving around in the last
few days of her career in that guise bidding adieu to her friends and receiving
their attention and accolades for her being Indira Gandhi's 'dupe'. I can’t
make any other guess about this otherwise mature lady's whim. Nor could Ravi.
*
*
*
Dear Chacko, this happened some four decades ago. Now, I am
not surprised about Shoab Malik’s case which you have referred. I get the
impression that the young fellow had some vague infatuation for that unseen
girl on the phone. But did she intentionally fool him? And if she did, for what
purpose? He avers he had not even seen the girl. When I read about it, I
thought it was a ludicrous story especially because of its many loose ends. So,
leave it at that, and let me join you now in wishing the young couple Sania and
Shoaib a happy married life. It could be one more drop of friendliness in the
dry ocean of Indo-Pak friendship!
Warm regards,
K X M
John
27/04/2010